


Holomatters

by Drazyrohk



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Awkwardness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Holoforms (Transformers), Misunderstandings, Multi, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2020-10-06 16:23:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: It was meant to be, at best, a drunken proposition, and at worst a drunken prank. Somehow it turned into a relationship. It probably served Swerve right for trying to predict the always unpredictable Whirl.





	1. The One With the Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've had this knocking about in my head for ages and finally decided to do something about it!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whirl asks the important questions. Swerve is appropriately and justifiably skeptical.

It wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary for Whirl to be the last one in the bar at the end of the night. It wasn’t entirely welcome either, as it was often difficult to convince him to leave when he was a half dozen drinks deep and in a stubborn mood.

The best course of action most nights was to just clean up and hope he went away on his own, so that’s what Swerve set out to do. Keeping his back to the room, the minibot steadfastly polished glasses and prayed that there wouldn’t be too many more chairs to pick up once Whirl was done tottering around. 

“Hey.” Whirl’s voice came from very close to the counter. “Hey you.” 

It deserved a glance, so Swerve looked over his shoulder to see that Whirl was leaning precariously over the counter, his single optic bright. 

“Me?” Swerve asked somewhat nervously. 

“Yeah. You.” Whirl reached out and prodded Swerve with a claw. It was firm, but not as much as one might have feared considering how drunk the rotary was. “Wanna frag?” 

Swerve blinked in surprise then raised a brow. “Whirl… do you really think I’m that stupid?” He asked. 

“No.” Whirl said with a hiccup. “Wait, what? What does that mean?”

“I’m not falling for that. You’re drunk, go home.” Swerve flapped the dish rag at him. 

“Okay, I’ll go. If you come with me.” Whirl wobbled a little closer. 

“Mkay, you need an escort? I’ll call security.” Swerve was in a steadfast mood. He’d remain steadfast. This was a cruel trick and a very hamfisted one at that. 

“Seriously, you wanna?” Whirl prodded him again. 

“Oh sure. Absolutely. But first, is Jackpot in on this betting pool? Cause he doesn’t have money. Or so he keeps saying whenever I ask him about his tab.” Swerve scoffed. 

“Don’t get it.” Whirl was still prodding him and it was getting annoying. 

Swerve took a step back to try and avoid him. “I’m not easy to offend but I’m getting close.” He said quietly. “Knock it off with the playing stupid bit, please.”

“Kay, I’m… really drunk. And horny. So explain?” Whirl straightened with a disconcerting sway. “Please.”

“Do I really have to?” Swerve bristled. “I am not stupid enough to fall for a trick like that. You ask me for a frag, I say yes, all your buddies laugh, you laugh, there’s fingers pointing and everyone who bet against my intelligence cashes in and has more ammunition to fling at me in the future.” 

“That sounds dumb.” Whirl grunted. “Who does that?”

“Trailcutter, Sprocket, _you,_ I’m not sure why you forgot but hey, you’re drunk.” Swerve stated blandly. “I fell for it once cause I didn’t think Trailcutter was that much of an aft and I’ve never fallen for it again. So good try but no thanks.”

For a moment, Whirl just stared and blinked slowly. He made a long, drawn out sound of disgust and frustration and Swerve rolled his optics in response. 

“I remember that. It was dumb.” Whirl said. “But this ain’t that. I wanna frag you.”

“In plenty of different ways I’m sure.” Swerve looked away. “You’re better at it than most.”

“C’mon, don’t.” Whirl sounded ever more frustrated. “I know I’m an aft. But this ain’t that. I’m not making fun. I wanna take you home with me.” 

“Flattering but no thanks. Try again when you’re sober.” Swerve flapped the cloth harder. “Shoo.”

“Are you serious about that?” Whirl asked. He swatted at the towel, got his claw stuck on it and wound up ripping it out of Swerve’s servo. “Cause I will.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.” Swerve said in a long suffering tone. 

“Well you can’t have it both ways! Either you want me to ask you to come home with me tomorrow when I’m sober or you don’t want me to. Which is it?” Whirl sounded offended himself. 

“This is both confusing and upsetting.” Swerve blurted out, and now they were engaged in a physical tug of war as well as a verbal one as he grabbed the cloth and tried to pull it back. “I don’t want you here trying to make a fool of me again!” 

“I’m not _trying_ to make a fool of you, I’m trying to get laid!” Whirl whined, not relinquishing his grip on the cloth (though that might not have been entirely his fault, it was twisted around the base of his claw at this point.) 

“Well you can just go and ask someone else because I am not in the mood to be pity fragged!” Swerve shouted, but he let go of the cloth because it was a lost cause. 

“How about regular fragged?! Or drunken fragged, that’s about the best I can do right now thanks to you and your stupid watered down drinks!” Whirl stumbled a little, thrown off balance by the sudden lack of resistance on the cloth he ‘held.’ 

“It’s not my fault you had so many of them, you can’t blame me!” Swerve’s voice was rising in pitch as his frantic confusion continued. 

“I can and I did and I will continue to do so!” Whirl retorted, his optic narrowed. “So? How about it?” 

In Swerve’s defence, it _had_ been awhile. A long while. A distressingly lengthy length of time. And if this was a trick, Whirl would have given up by now. His attention span wasn’t usually this long. And it was late, Swerve didn’t feel like continuing to argue, and well… 

Well… 

Well nothing. “Fine, you big, stupid, drunken idiot! I’ll walk you home!” Swerve snapped. “If it’ll shut you up and get you out of my bar, I’ll do it!” 

“And by it you mean me, right?” Whirl asked as his optic brightened and he snapped his claws in triumph.

“Why the frag not?” Swerve muttered in response.

“That’s the spirit.” Whirl chirped. 

There was no fragging at all that night. Whirl was indeed just a bit too drunk for such shenanigans. But Swerve still wound up staying the night in Whirl’s apartment, partially out of guilt and partially because Whirl wound up passing out after wrestling him into the berth and cuddling him like a stuffed mechanimal. 

By the time Swerve realized Whirl was deep in recharge, he was too embarrassed to extricate himself and leave. He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep himself as his next conscious thought was waking to warmth pressed firmly to his side.

Softer warmth. Smaller warmth. 

Swerve brought his optics online and hesitantly looked down. Instead of the bulky, pointy, heavy frame of Whirl, he found himself looking at the bluish hair of the rotary’s avatar. The eye that wasn’t covered by a patch was closed, and she looked a lot like she was asleep if her soft, even breath was any indicator. 

That was surprising, to say the very least. Swerve couldn’t have expected anything less than waking up next to Whirl’s avatar.

Very gently extricating his arm from beneath Whirl, Swerve bit down on his bottom lip and tried not to jostle her too much. Unfortunately for him, she opened her eye almost immediately and blinked at him. 

“Ah, sorry.” Swerve said with a grimace. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“I wasn’t really sleeping.” Whirl said in response. “I thought I’d give it a shot, but it didn’t really work.” 

“Give what a shot?” Swerve asked as he sat up and stretched. 

“Sleeping while I’m in the shower.” Whirl scrunched her nose rather adorably as she also sat up. “But it’s a lot harder than I expected.” 

Optics widening behind his visor, Swerve found himself staring. It was a lot to unpack all at once, directly after waking up. Whirl stared right back, and after a long and rather awkward moment, she coughed and rubbed the back of her head. 

“Uh. Is this okay?” Whirl asked nervously. 

“Uh huh.” Swerve nodded. Was he gaping? Was his mouth hanging open? He made a point of closing it and sure enough his jaw shut with a click. 

“Really?” Whirl raised a brow at him. “Cause if it’s not, I can-” 

“It’s fine.” Swerve hurriedly interrupted. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

“Yeah?” Whirl looked just as surprised as he felt. “You really sure?” 

“Seriously. It’s fine.” Swerve held up both servos and waved them a little. “I don’t mind. Uh… do you… is this a thing you do?” 

“Yep.” Whirl nodded, then the door opened and in walked the bot that the avatar belonged to. 

“I brought breakfast. Unless you were planning on leaving right away.” Whirl was brandishing two cubes of energon, one in each claw. He smelled like the cleanser in the public washracks, and was still dripping slightly. 

“Nope, I can stay for fuel.” Swerve was honestly too invested in figuring out what the frag was going on to leave yet. Especially since Whirl’s avatar was still sitting next to him. 

“Kay.” Whirl handed a cube to Swerve and sat awkwardly with the other one, back pressed to the wall. “So uh. You’re really alright with this?” 

“What exactly is ‘this?’” Swerve asked as he raised the cube to his mouth. He hadn’t fueled last night, he could use the top up. 

“Not gonna lie, most mechs are out the door the second they wake up.” Whirl explained helpfully. 

“You’ve had a lot of mechs over for the night?” Swerve asked from behind his cube, his optics still fixed on the avatar that sat staring at him. She was animated, she turned her head when Whirl spoke, so it wasn’t like she wasn’t _present_ and Primus Swerve had so many questions. 

“More than most would expect. Not that I blame them, I can get it.” Whirl boasted, and his avatar snickered. “Shut up you.” 

“He’s lying.” Whirl’s avatar informed Swerve. “About being able to get it. I mean, he’d be able to get it if he could get it up once in awhile.” 

“Wow.” Swerve blurted, his faceplates ablaze. He wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or if it was something else, honestly. 

“Do not make me put you in the closet again.” Whirl snapped, but there wasn’t a lot of venom in it. No dangerous glint in his optic. “The fact that they end up here means I’m hot stuff.” 

“You’re an insistent drunk, I’ll give you that.” His avatar replied. “It’s all pity, I’ve told you that before.” 

“What do you think, Swerve? You’re here, why’re you here? Cause I’m hot? Or cause I’m insistent?” Whirl asked him directly and Swerve gaped at him in continued shock. “You told me last night you weren’t in the mood for a pity frag, so you wouldn’t be a big fat hypocrite and just be here out of pity.” 

It took Swerve a moment to find his voice. It took him a moment to get out more than a squeak. And when he finally did speak, it was in a shrill tone that was usually reserved for panic attacks. 

“I thought I was the only one.” 

Both Whirl and his avatar gazed at Swerve, both with unreadable expressions. Then they exchanged a glance with one another. 

“Well, it’s not… It’s not like what you do. Making planets and stuff, but… but I’ve gotten kind of good at it. And she’s good company, even if she’s a little shit and sort of rude.” Whirl explained after a few seconds. “And it’s kind of convenient being able to leave my room without leaving my room. So when I’m under house arrest, I can still go out.” 

“Yeah.” Whirl’s avatar nodded. “It’s really fun. I’m surprised there’s not more people doin’ it.” 

“Me too.” Swerve agreed, and his throat felt tight and his optics were burning. This was all a lot more emotional than he expected. 

“You okay?” Whirl’s avatar asked, her hand pressed to his arm in a comforting manner. “You look a little uh… like you got punched.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” Swerve said automatically. “I just-” 

“Look, if it’s not okay, we can totally just not do this.” Whirl interrupted. 

“It’s not that. It’s fine, really. It’s okay. I don’t mind at all. I just never in a million years would have expected this.” Swerve flapped his hands to either side. 

Whirl’s avatar looked over at Whirl’s frame and smirked in triumph. “Told ya.” She said in a smug tone. 

“Yeah. You did. But I’m a skeptic in my spark of sparks. And just because someone watches a lot of off world cinema doesn’t automatically mean they’re not gonna run for the door when they wake up next to a human.” Whirl countered. 

“To be fair, I’m not really a human. I just look like one.” The avatar said. 

They were carrying on conversations like two bots would. They were talking to one another as if they weren’t the same person. Swerve felt his throat tighten a little more. He didn’t know what he was feeling, just that he was feeling and it was a lot. 

And this was a _lot_ of effort, so Swerve felt confident it wasn’t a trick. This was really happening. He wasn’t aware of putting his servos over his face until Whirl’s avatar was gently pulling them away so she could look him in the optics. 

“Look, you’re not going to cry are you? I wouldn’t ever forgive him if he made you cry.” She said. 

“I’m not sure.” Swerve said in a static laced voice. “I haven’t decided yet. This is all turning out much better than I anticipated when you asked me over last night.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s right. I guess I owe you, don’t I?” Whirl mused. “Would you accept a raincheck? An IOU?” 

“Does he look like the type of bot that cashes those things in?” The avatar asked in affront, twisting to glare at her frame. “He’s obviously the kind of guy who hoards them under his mattress cause he’s too shy or embarrassed to bother.” 

“She’s right.” Swerve let out a laugh that somehow made the urge to cry even greater. “I’m that guy.” 

“I always thought you’d be the type to awkwardly proposition people and then make really nice excuses after you’re turned down.” Whirl tapped a claw against the underside of his helm, near where his fuel intake port was located. 

“Really nice excuses are way better than saying ‘nevermind, I didn’t wanna frag you anyway, you c-’” His avatar began. 

“Hey! Language! I told you, it’s not ladylike to call people names.” Whirl interrupted her. 

Swerve couldn’t stop the laughter now, and he was thankful that the giggles stayed just that and didn’t dissolve into pathetic sobs. 

“This is absurd.” He heard himself say. “This feels like a sitcom.” 

“Ooo, tag yourself, I’m Chandler!” Whirl’s avatar chirped. 

“We’ve been over this, _I_ am obviously the Chandler. _You_ are absolutely the Phoebe.” Whirl countered. 

“Fine, then I’m the Jake.” His avatar sniffed.

“Dream on! Everyone knows that Rodimus is the Jake.” Whirl scoffed. 

“Y-yeah cause no one else on this ship could be the Holt but Ultra Magnus.” Swerve joined in on the conversation, still giggling. “How much ‘off world cinema’ have you been watching?” 

“I’ve spent a lot of time under house arrest for things I haven’t done or haven’t bothered taking credit for. And I gotta say, I watched _Friends_ as a punishment, but B99 is like super powered Nuke and I binged that slag so fast.” Whirl enthused with a wave of his claws. 

“You should have called me. I would have provided commentary.” Swerve said with a grin. 

“I thought about it. But sometimes it’s easier just to watch it by yourself.” Whirl shrugged. 

“Or with yourself as the case may be.” His avatar also shrugged. 

“Yeah, I get that.” Swerve didn’t really agree. He always had more fun watching it with other people. It didn’t feel as sad. But he definitely did get it.

“There’s lots of stuff you’ve seen that we haven’t so… I guess it gives us something to do between fragging.” Whirl said cheerfully. 

“Yeah, I guess it-” Swerve spluttered to a stop and stared at Whirl in renewed shock. “Wait, what?”


	2. The 'Awkward First Time' Trope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both of them know what they want. Neither one of them knows how to get it.

The day passed with none of the promised fragging. The excitement of the morning ended with Whirl escorting Swerve to the door with a declaration that he’d make up for the ‘shoddy company’ from the night before by _not_ getting as drunk as he had been. 

Then Swerve was off to work because the ship didn’t really keep normal planet hours and people expected him to be at the bar if he wasn’t sleeping or engaging in what slim social opportunities there were aboard the _Lost Light._

He didn’t let it distract him. He thought about it (a lot,) but it didn’t interfere with his function aboard the ship. Swerve may not have a shining reputation, but he did have a room full of thirsty mechs to serve drinks to, so he set about it with his usual efficiency. 

When one of the usual pranksters came up to the counter, Swerve heard his knuckles creak as he gripped the glass he’d been cleaning. Obviously, despite his focus on work, he was clinging to the tension from the night before. 

“Hey Sureshot.” Swerve greeted the bot. 

“Hey yourself. What’s the special?” Sureshot asked, elbow coming to rest on the counter. 

“The ‘Fresh Prince,’ simple syrup and engex with a bit of sparkle to give it a zing.” Swerve replied casually. 

“It taste any good?” Sureshot asked, brow raised. 

“Good enough to justify the cost.” Swerve looked up at him and Sureshot let out a startled laugh. 

“Smooth. I like it! I’ll take three.” Sureshot declared. 

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when it’s done.” Swerve could feel the tension letting go. No mention of Whirl, no teasing, no leering…

No joke. No torment. 

Swerve sent a ping to Whirl, an invitation to come by and watch something that night. There wasn’t an immediate response, but after the three drinks for Sureshot were done, Whirl sent back an affirmative. 

Feeling his fuel tank give a weird little lurch, Swerve realized he would need to close up a bit early to go make his room look a bit less like a dungeon. 

He wasn’t used to having guests anymore. 

Swerve introduced Whirl to something a bit different than the usual sitcom fare. They watched the pilot of Pushing Daisies (criminally underrated, canceled far too soon,) and while there was a fair bit of commentary being made by Whirl while they watched, most of it wasn’t as scathing or sarcastic as Swerve anticipated. 

“Okay, but could you _imagine?_ A power like that, we could cause some serious chaos.” Whirl mused once the pilot was done, optic fixed on the closing credits. 

“There is prank potential, buuuut… I can also see it hurting a little too much to be funny.” Swerve said, his optics fixed on Whirl. 

“Yeah, I guess. Huh. You think about that sort of stuff?” Whirl asked, but it wasn’t a mean spirited sort of question. He looked at Swerve and gave a little twitch. 

“Yeah. I do. I am not one to shy away from pranks, Primus knows.” Swerve laughed, his cheeks flushed a little. “But I have limits, lines I won’t cross.” 

“It’s that pesky empathy.” Whirl commented as he leaned back on his claws, and his optic contact was almost intense now. 

“Not so pesky.” Swerve said easily in reply. “After all, if it weren’t for empathy, I wouldn’t have walked you home last night.” 

Whirl thought this over for a long moment in silence, then he snorted out a soft laugh. “Frag, you’re right. Guess it’s not so bad sometimes.” He said. “Don’t know why you offered, really. I’m a big bot, I can handle myself and all those drinks I had.”

“I mean, it’s not like I was worried about _you_ really.” Swerve teased. “I was more worried about everyone else.” 

There was a beat or two and Swerve worried very briefly that he’d insulted the rotary, then Whirl snorted a far more genuine laugh, prodded Swerve hard in the shoulder and squinted his optic. 

“You just took a dig at me.” Whirl said in amusement. “I’m proud. As long as you didn’t just ask me back here to insult me, of course.” 

“I’m not trying to make fun of you.” Swerve said as he held his hands up in a placating manner. “Not seriously of course.” 

“A dig in jest is fine.” Whirl’s field, full of warm feelings and the impression of soft laughter, moved against Swerve’s own that rippled with nervous energy and hesitant fondness. “It’s kind of hot actually.” 

“That’s not something I’m used to being called.” Swerve said with a slight shrug. 

They stared at one another for what seemed like a short eternity, then Whirl tilted his helm to the side slightly. 

“Wanna frag?” Whirl asked. 

“Do you wanna?” Swerve asked in return. 

Whirl seemed to think about it for a few seconds, then he nodded. “Yeah. I do.” He said in a cheerful tone. 

“Okay!” Swerve could hear the pitch of his voice rising. Oh boy, what now? He was a turbofox chasing an equinoid and actually catching it. 

“Great!” Whirl’s tone was becoming more manic too. 

Presumably, they’d both done this before. They knew how it worked. So why were they both frozen in place?

If this were a sitcom, they’d be kissing. It would be clumsy and endearing. The audience would cheer and laugh…

“I’m usually a bit drunker than I am now by this point. Which is to say I’m not at all.” Whirl said happily. 

“Right, right. Gotcha. I’m uh… not usually at home.” Swerve blurted. 

Oh that sounded bad. Whirl was definitely going to draw some conclusions from that. 

Quite possibly the right ones. 

“I am robbed of the novelty of sucking spike in supply closets.” Yep. That was what Swerve was expecting from Whirl. “Also that is quite possibly more pathetic than having no memory of being sober during interfacing. I guess that means I’m in perfect company here.”

“Just a couple losers sharing an incredibly awkward not so sexual sexual encounter.” Swerve said with a sage nod. 

“This isn’t gonna happen is it?” Whirl was beginning to giggle. 

“I really wish it would. I just don’t know how to get it going.” Swerve was blushing madly now. This was quite possibly the worst moment ever. No one better have been filming this. 

“We could try your closet?” Whirl suggested, then he paused. “Was that really mean?”

“No.” Yes. “It might just work.” Ouch. “We could-“

“No no no, I was kidding. Why don’t you just suck my spike out here instead?” Whirl interrupted. 

“If that is going to make this painful moment stop then I’m game for anything.” Swerve said with perhaps a bit too much force. “So whip it out big guy.” 

When Whirl blinked at him in surprise, Swerve expected him to decline. He didn’t expect him to sit back, spread his long slender legs and uncase his spike. So he hoped the splutter of shock would be excused along with the way he stared in what may have been brief but rapt fascination. 

“Whoa whoa whoa, h-hold on. Do you… are you… is this… w-we’re really doing this then?” Swerve bleated. 

“Pretty sure we are.” Whirl said, his tone unreadable. “Unless this was all an elaborate prank to get me to embarrass myself?” 

“No! Not at all!” How dare Whirl turn things around like that? That’s what Swerve had expressed fear of last night! “I… I was… spending time with you tonight was nice! It was fun to show you the pilot and… and…” Still spluttering, Swerve wasn’t sure where he was going with this. 

Spike still out and not showing signs of stopping its steadfast stand at attention, Whirl huffed softly. He let his leg splay open and leaned back on his claws. 

“We’re bad at this.” He said. “It’s not supposed to be this hard.”

“Parts of it are.” Swerve heard himself say from far away. “Or it doesn’t work as well.” 

Primus help him, Whirl probably thought he was still sealed, untouched, the robot equivalent of a neck beard hiding in his carrier’s basement writing ‘waifu’ male power fantasy fanfics-

Whirl threw his helm back and laughed, slapped his leg with a claw. “I don’t care if that was intentional, it was fragging funny.” He wheezed. “Oh shit, Swerve! What the frag?”

“W-well, I’m not wrong!” Swerve said frantically. “It-“

Then Whirl was reaching out and pressing a claw to his lips with astonishing gentleness. Swerve stammered into silence, his optics ever more wide as Whirl leaned in and bumped the edge of his helm against his cheek. 

“Relax.” Whirl said. “Let’s not overthink this. We’re the only two losers here. We don’t have to rush.”

“I know.” Swerve murmured. “You’re right.”

He lifted his servo hesitantly, his fingers trembled as he touched the side of Whirl’s helm. Whirl leaned subtly into the touch, his optic dim. 

Luckily, the surprising romance of the moment didn’t last long enough for Swerve to get emotional. Whirl caught Swerve’s other servo in his claw and guided it to his spike, and Swerve couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. 

“Too pushy?” Whirl asked, helm still resting against Swerve’s. 

“Not at all. Right to the point in true Whirl fashion.” Swerve said fondly. 

He wrapped his servo around Whirl’s spike, squeezed very gently, and was rewarded with a short intake of breath and a quiet hum of appreciation. 

Feeling his own array finally warming, Swerve took his time exploring the length and girth of the spike he held. Whirl breathed deeply and evenly, shifted his hips into Swerve’s touch. Even though he’d said there was no rush, Whirl had impatient need in his field. 

“Too slow?” Swerve asked. 

“Are you just trying to figure out if it’ll fit?” Whirl asked with a hint of static in his voice. 

“Oh it’ll fit alright.” Swerve said with a nervous giggle. “I can take it.”

“Then I really wish you would.” Whirl butt his helm against Swerve’s shoulder and neck. “Cause if you don’t soon, you’re not gonna have the chance and I’m not in much of a position to help you out after.” 

“Okay, okay.” Swerve breathed in amusement. “How do you want to do this?”

Instead of a verbal explanation, Whirl dramatically flopped onto his back on the floor. Swerve observed him for a few seconds before clamouring up and straddling his slender waist. 

This would likely be easiest. Their frames were not entirely compatible, and in this position Swerve couldn’t see Whirl’s face but he supposed he didn’t need to in order to get the job done. 

To keep his balance, Swerve seized the thin gun barrels mounted on Whirl’s chest. This elicited a soft gasp and a buck of hips beneath him. 

“You okay?” Swerve asked. He positioned himself without tugging too hard on those guns, his panel clicking open. 

“Swerve.” Whirl whined softly. “Hurry.”

“I’ve got ya.” Swerve murmured, then he seated himself upon Whirl’s eager spike. Their hips met with a dull sound, Whirl let out a shout, and stars erupted in Swerve’s vision. 

Everything about Whirl was long and pointed, and his spike was no exception. Swerve’s small stature meant he was filled generously, and the tip of Whirl’s spike would have been somewhat uncomfortable if it weren’t for the minibot being blessed with a cluster of ceiling nodes rather than a single one. That sharp tip was surrounded by them instead of stabbing into them and Swerve figured it felt just as good for Whirl as it did for him. 

“Oh frag yes, your mouth isn’t the only part of you that’s big and greedy.” Whirl groaned. 

“You have no idea.” Swerve panted lightly, his hips wriggled a bit to test the waters as it were, and Whirl cursed. 

The impatient rotary bucked into him, hips rolling with difficulty, and Swerve gasped aloud. 

“H-hold on.” Swerve said, fingers tugging on the guns he held. 

“Can’t.” Whirl grunted. “Been waiting for days.” 

“Yeah, I guess you have been but-“ Swerve’s breath erupted from his vents when a particularly sharp thrust made it much harder to concentrate. 

He gave up talking and focused on helping Whirl get what he wanted. Rocking didn’t cut it so he used Whirl’s guns as leverage and lifted himself off that very appealing spike before dropping down as Whirl thrust back up. 

They didn’t get to the point of establishing a rhythm of any sort. Whirl was frantic, he moved without relenting, his increasingly loud moans and cursing drowning out Swerve’s cry of mixed alarm and passion when overload swept through him. 

“Aw frag, Swerve!” Whirl burst out, then he arched off the floor and overloaded himself. 

As heat bloomed within him, the combination of twitching and pulsing against still primed ceiling nodes made Swerve overload a second time and just hammered home how long it had been. He stuffed his fist into his mouth to muffle the shrill sounds that escaped him, his other servo closed in a death grip on Whirl’s gun. 

“Ow, ow, please… let go, too hard.” Whirl gasped, and Swerve whimpered an apology around his fist as he loosened his grip. “Thank you.”

“M’kay.” Swerve mumbled, and wiped drool from his mouth after he dislodged his fist. 

“Okay. That was…” Whirl trailed off. “Uh, that was.”

“It was.” Swerve agreed. 

“But that’s alright. We’ll work on it.” Whirl said with optimism. 

“It wasn’t _bad,_ really. It was just-“ Swerve began. 

“Fast.” Whirl finished for him. “You finished.”

“Yeah. Twice.” Swerve confirmed. 

“Hey, not bad. Not half bad.” Whirl shifted, his claws scrabbling at Swerve’s hips. “Uh.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” Swerve mumbled, pulling himself off Whirl’s spike. Immediately, his valve clenched, and a pleasant ache set in. “Oof.”

Sitting up, Whirl peered down at Swerve with a cheerful light in his optic. He practically headbutt the minibot in his enthusiasm, but Swerve didn’t mind. 

“Think we can do better next time?” Whirl asked. 

“Pretty sure yeah.” Swerve said with a short laugh. “We’ve got a lot more to watch, so plenty more chances.” 

“Speaking of which…” Whirl shuffled Swerve off his lap and deposited him on the floor next to him. “Can we watch another episode before I go? I am curiously invested in the overly tall human.” 

This time it was Swerve’s spark that lurched. He tried not to think too hard about that. 

“Absolutely. As a warning, this show gets weird.” Swerve felt his legs quiver a bit as he rose to switch the show back on. 

“They’re all weird. Like me. Like us even. I don’t mind.” Whirl replied conversationally.


	3. Steady As We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swerve has questions but is too shy to ask. Whirl asks questions while avoiding giving Swerve any answers of his own.

Watching movies and shows with Whirl was fun. Watching movies and shows with Whirl and his avatar was even better. The avatar’s presence generally meant there’d be no interface, but Swerve was alright with that.

After all, the company was the best part. It felt like having friends. 

“Ugh, humans are so thirsty for the weirdest stuff.” Whirl’s avatar said with a shudder. “Why would you want something that _gooey?_ It’s just wrong.” 

“I dunno, I kinda liked him.” Whirl countered. 

“Of course you did.” Swerve laughed. “He’s violent and chaotic! And has a very sassy sense of humour!” 

“And no qualms with calling people out for being losers! So you probably feel a kinship with him.” The avatar chimed in. 

“Well yeah! Exactly!” Whirl chirped. 

Laughing together was almost as good as the fragging was. Almost. 

And they’d been practicing a lot. They’d been getting better. Whirl was getting more comfortable with asking for what he wanted, and Swerve found it easier to give him what he needed. Their frag sessions were lasting longer, and it felt more amazing every time. 

“It was almost as good as Deadpool. Almost.” Whirl concluded with a stretch of his long limbs. “Hey you, it’s past your bedtime.” 

“Aw, are you banishing me?” His avatar pouted. “Not fair. The movie _just_ ended, can’t we all hang out a bit?” 

“I don’t mind.” Swerve insisted, and he reached out to pat Whirl’s pointy knee. “I can get us more energon goodies.” 

“You give me that look and I can’t help but agree.” Whirl huffed. “Fine, fine, but you better make it extra sweet for me.” 

“Got it.” Swerve said with a smirk, then he got up and went to the cupboard to retrieve the premade goodies he kept there, and what he needed to make Whirl some extra sweet energon. 

“Did you ask him yet?” The avatar asked softly, her voice barely audible. 

“No.” Whirl hissed before she even finished speaking. “It’s gotta be the right time.” 

“And now’s not the right time?” The avatar whispered. “I think it’s a great time. Right now. The present. No time like it.” 

“There’s… a mood missing. It’s not the moment.” Whirl argued quietly. 

Swerve wondered what they might have been talking about, and he felt his cheeks flush as he worked. They dropped their volume so he could no longer hear them, and he tried to keep his expression cheerful and not at all suspicious when he returned to them with the promised snacks. 

“Here we go.” Swerve said as he got settled once again. “Everything okay?” 

“All good.” The avatar insisted. 

“Yep. It’s all okie dokie.” Whirl chirped as he snatched his drink up in his claw and guided the straw to his intake port. 

“Do we have time for a game before I have to go?” The avatar asked Swerve with a smile. 

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind a round or two of something.” Swerve replied. The little niggling voice at the back of his head was trying to tell him they were up to something and that he ought to be worried about it, but…

He didn’t want to worry right now. He was having a good time. He didn’t want to ruin it with his paranoia. 

It was easy to forget to be paranoid when you were getting your processor fragged out. Whirl was in fine form after he had sent his avatar ‘home,’ and Swerve threw himself enthusiastically into the act. 

Between overloads, Whirl would pause. He’d stare down at Swerve as if in contemplation. There was an anticipatory air about him, but every time he’d just initiate yet another round. By the time they were finished, Swerve was a bit sore and unspeakably exhausted. 

“What’s gotten into you? Did you like Venom that much?” Swerve panted. He winced as he tried to get comfortable on the berth. Whirl’s frame was so pointy. 

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” Whirl muttered in reply. He didn’t bother moving to make it easier for Swerve to curl against him. 

“Hey.” Swerve pushed himself up on an elbow, then leaned on Whirl’s cockpit to look at him with a frown. “Are we okay?” 

“We’re fine.” Whirl said quickly, and when he looked at Swerve there was a light of concern in his optic. His field brushed against Swerve’s, and the minibot let his own tangle into it. “We’re fine, right?” 

“As far as I know, yes. No trouble on my end. Though we might need to take it easy for a couple days since you appear to have pounded my valve into scrap.” Swerve said honestly. 

Whirl laughed, a short bark of laughter that rang with surprise. “Sorry. Sometimes I get tunnel vision.” He said. 

“Something tells me the tunnel you were envisioning wasn’t my valve.” Swerve leaned his elbows on Whirl’s chest and peered at him searchingly. “You’re kind of distracted.” 

“Still got the job done. You have no room to complain.” Whirl looked away, and his field withdrew. 

“I’m not complaining, Whirl. I’m just worried.” Swerve said with firm but gentle surety. “You do know you can talk to me if I’ve done something wrong, right?” 

“You haven’t.” Again, a very quick answer. Whirl didn’t look at him as he spoke but Swerve had no reason not to believe him. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Kind of the opposite, really. This is a good thing, this thing we’ve got. A really good thing.” 

“It is.” Swerve agreed. “So I don’t want to screw it up. And I want you to tell me if I do, or if I come close.” He prodded Whirl’s chest to emphasise this. 

“I will not hesitate. You know me. For all my sharp angles, I am a blunt instrument.” Whirl insisted, his helm partially turned to peer at Swerve sidelong. “It’s not you, I promise.” 

“Okay.” Swerve said softly. 

“I think I might go home.” The decision wasn’t unexpected. Swerve had seen it coming. It didn’t sting as much as it might have a few weeks ago. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright. We do what we have to. You know where to find me if you want company, okay?” Swerve said, and he pushed himself away from Whirl’s frame so that the rotary could sit up. 

“Is that all this is?” Whirl asked suddenly. “Company?” 

“Really good company. Pleasurable company. Comfortable company.” Swerve elaborated, surprise laced through his field. He paused for a moment and drew in a breath. “But no. That’s not all it is to me.” 

“Same.” Whirl said, and he had taken a sudden interest in the clock that Swerve had mounted on the wall across the room. “It’s more than that.” 

They sat in strained silence for a few seconds, Swerve trying to figure out how to further explain himself. He didn’t want Whirl to get the wrong idea, it wasn’t like he was in love with him or anything. It wasn’t like that. 

“Are we a thing?” Whirl asked, his voice a touch too loud. “Like… an us? Are we an us?” 

“We might be.” Swerve replied, his gaze lowered to where he was twisting his fingers together. 

“Do you want to be?” Whirl asked it in the same way he’d asked to frag in the first place. So casual, like it was inconsequential. 

“Do you?” Swerve asked in return. He lifted his optics to look at Whirl, and was pleased to see that single optic fixed on him again. 

“I’ve never done that before. I don’t know how it works.” Whirl admitted. 

“Me neither.” Swerve said with a shrug. “Think we’d screw it up?” 

“Oh, probably.” Whirl said, his optic narrowed a touch. “We’re good at that.” 

“Maybe we could practice at it, like we have with the interfacing. We’re getting good at that. Maybe it’ll be the same for a relationship.” Swerve suggested. Was this what the avatar had been asking about earlier? 

“Maybe. I dunno. We could. It might work. Or it might not. I dunno.” Whirl fluffed his armour suddenly, one of his wings bonked Swerve on the head. 

“It couldn’t hurt to at least try. If it’s not for us, then at least we’ve got the movies.” Swerve said without calling attention to the blow. It hadn’t been hard enough to cause damage. 

“And the fragging.” Whirl said hopefully. 

“And the fragging, yeah.” Swerve snorted out a laugh. 

“Okay. Let’s do it then.” Whirl sounded a bit brighter, a bit less distracted. Determined almost. 

Swerve felt a bit more of that paranoia melt away. Things were okay. More than okay. 

“Let’s do it.” Swerve said with a smile and a nod. 

It didn’t feel real. Waking up alone the next morning might have been the reason for it, but Swerve couldn’t help thinking he’d maybe dreamed the conversation up. That was okay, in a way, because it had been a really nice dream and very on brand if that was the case. 

But then he read through the messages in his inbox and found one from Whirl that said he’d be by that night for drinks and that he’d fixed Swerve’s clock cause he noticed it was slow when he was staring at it the night before. It ended on a promise that he’d stop being late for their movie dates even though it was technically Swerve’s fault cause it was his clock and Swerve couldn’t help the stupid smile on his face cause wasn’t that just so very, very Whirl?

So the conversation _had_ actually happened. He and Whirl were dating. Or at least they were attempting to. 

Swerve’s first instinct was to call Tailgate to tell him. But they hadn’t discussed actually talking about it with other people. And Swerve was too nervous and embarrassed to ask Whirl about that. 

Was it too soon? It was probably too soon. If it didn’t end up working out, then he would have gotten excited over nothing. 

Figuring for now it was best to keep it to himself, Swerve gulped down his morning fuel, did his best to clean up the mess his frame had become the night before (jeez, Whirl) and headed to the bar. 

No one commented on the lightness of his step, his cheerful demeanor. No one seemed to notice that Swerve was smiling a little more brightly and genuinely, or that there was a twinkle in his optics that made his visor glow. 

None of Swerve’s regulars said a thing, but maybe that was for the best. Swerve had a hard time containing his excitement when good things happened to him, so if anyone _did_ ask, he might just blurt things out without meaning to. 

The day didn’t seem so long. The work didn’t seem so tedious. And in the evening when the usual crowd started to gather, he didn’t feel so overwhelmed. 

Then Whirl was there, making his way to the counter like he did every night. When he sat down on one of the stools and leaned over the counter to peer at him, Swerve gave him a knowing smile. 

“Hey nerd.” Whirl greeted, and someone who didn’t know him well might have thought it was just him being his rude self. “I’m thirsty.” 

“Hey jerk.” Swerve greeted in response, grin just a little wider than usual. “Your usual?” 

“Yep. You know how I like it.” Whirl said. 

“Sure do. Coming right up.” Swerve replied. 

As he put together Whirl’s drink, pleased that his hands were barely shaking, Swerve heard another stool scrape across the floor behind him. 

“Do you ever use manners?” Cyclonus asked Whirl in annoyance. 

“What, with him? No. I’m only polite to people I loathe completely.” Whirl chirped in reply. 

“Hm.” Cyclonus rumbled. “I see.” 

“That’s why I’m the epitome of etiquette around you and your tight aft, Cyclonus.” Whirl said, and Cyclonus grunted as he was shoved firmly but affectionately by the rotary. 

“I see you’re in good spirits tonight.” Cyclonus muttered. 

Swerve took in a breath before turning to give Whirl his drink, and he found himself trying not to look directly at Cyclonus. He was a sharp one, very observant. 

“Here you go.” Swerve said to Whirl, who reached out to gingerly take the Mood Whiplash that Swerve had carefully prepared. “Complete with curly straw.” 

“Glad you remembered this time.” Whirl replied. He took a sip and made an unimpressed sound, which made Swerve raise a brow skeptically. “It’s okay I guess.” 

“It’s on your tab already. No refunds.” Swerve said, and Whirl sighed dramatically. “Them’s the rules.” 

“Yeah yeah. I’ll take it.” Whirl narrowed his optic at Swerve before he rose from his stool. “Later Swerve.” 

“Later.” Swerve said with a small wave at Whirl’s retreating back. When he looked back at Cyclonus, he found himself meeting ridiculously intense red optics and flinched. “What?” He squeaked. 

“Hm.” Cyclonus rumbled again, then paused for better effect. Paused for a good, long moment without looking away. 

Swerve stared right back, too nervous to look away. He waited for Cyclonus to ask, to say something, _anything._ It was possible to hear the gears turning in the stoic mech’s head. 

“Two pints of engex. One half sweet.” Cyclonus finally said. 

“Coming right up.” Swerve wished his voice wasn’t so high. That was suspicious. Of course, it was normal to be nervous around Cyclonus when he was giving you that look, wasn’t it? No one would think anything of it. 

He turned away to pour the drinks, an itch between his shoulder plates as Cyclonus didn’t relent with the staring. This time, the trembling of his hands was noticeable, but he didn’t spill anything and counted that as a victory. 

Cyclonus took both cups but didn’t immediately rise to leave. He stared at Swerve in expectation. 

Wordlessly, Swerve reached beneath the counter to retrieve a curly straw and stuck it into the half sweet engex. Still, Cyclonus continued to sit and stare. They were at a silent impasse. 

“All good?” Swerve ventured to ask after an impossibly long moment. 

“Is it?” Cyclonus asked in reply, still as a sentinel. 

“Yep.” Swerve tried not to speak too hastily, or nod too eagerly. “All good.” 

“I see.” Cyclonus murmured, and Swerve couldn’t help wondering just what he thought he was seeing. 

Then he rose from the stool, stared at Swerve for another agonizingly lengthy moment and finally turned to take the drinks to where Tailgate sat waiting at their usual booth. 

Releasing a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, Swerve watched him go. He startled when Whirl was suddenly in front of him again, empty glass thumping down on the counter. 

“Obnoxious bastard. Can’t put anything past him.” Whirl muttered. “Hey, gimme another okay?” 

“Yeah, okay.” Swerve said, a touch on the breathless side. “Do we need to worry about that?” 

“Nah. He’s harmless.” Whirl insisted. “Nosey, but harmless. Only time you gotta worry is if things go wrong. I don’t know who he’d be more upset at, honestly. You, or me.” 

“I guess we just gotta make sure nothing goes wrong.” Swerve said as he glanced back at the booth. Tailgate was leaning across and waving a hand at Cyclonus as if trying to get his attention. 

“Yep. I was thinking the same thing.” Whirl said as he followed Swerve’s gaze. “It’s weird.” 

“It is?” Swerve asked as he looked up at Whirl. “Which part?” 

“There’s so many people around me that seem _invested_ in my wellbeing. I’m not used to that. Dunno if I like it.” Whirl muttered. “Ah well. I don’t wanna think about it right now so liquor me up already!” 

“Okay, okay.” Swerve let out a soft laugh. “I’m on it.” 

This time, when he handed the drink to Whirl, there was somewhat significant servo touching. And it was of course awkward, Swerve’s fingers getting trapped beneath the edge of one of Whirl’s claws. They muttered apologies to one another, and when Swerve cast another glance towards the booth, Cyclonus was staring in their direction. 

“So, are we telling people about this?” Swerve asked Whirl. 

“It all depends on how keen on sharing Cyclonus gets. If he tells Tailgate, and it will take him telling Tailgate cause Legs sure ain’t astute enough to figure it out on his own, then the whole ship will know by tomorrow.” Whirl said as he lifted his drink and drained half of it in one go. “If he keeps it to himself, which is likely because he’s a selfish prick and doesn’t actually care about other people, or so he’d like you to think, then we have nothing to worry about.” 

“Sounds about right.” Swerve said, more than a hint of disappointment in his field despite him having figured that was the case. 

“Look, we don’t even know if it’s gonna work. So we can’t go around getting people’s hopes up.” Whirl said, one claw tapping the top of Swerve’s hood to draw his attention. “I’m not real patient, so you won’t have to contain your excitement, and or your disappointment for long. I promise.” 

“Okay.” Swerve said quietly in reply. “That’s fair, I guess.” 

“I’ll come by after you close up.” Whirl said as he got up again. “I guess we can talk more about this then.” 

Swerve just nodded in response. He was back to feeling something he couldn’t adequately put into words, but maybe that was all part of being in a relationship. You felt a lot of things, you felt them really hard, and sometimes you weren’t quite sure what you were feeling in the first place no matter how intense those feelings were.


	4. I See You, Whirl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are so many feelings. So very many feelings. Who knew relationships made you feel so many feelings?

“Two weeks?!”

Swerve had been convinced the medical report would soften the blow. Now he was pretty certain it only made Whirl more upset. 

“Ratchet says the abrasions could become tears if they aren’t given the chance to heal. And tears take even longer to heal than abrasions.” Swerve said nervously. 

“But… you drive me crazy, how am I supposed to wait two weeks to spike you again?” Whirl protested. It was flattering, Swerve couldn’t help but blush. 

“If you need to use your spike on me so badly, I have other-“ He began. 

“It’s not _me_ I’m worried about leaving thirsty!” Whirl said with a click of his claws and a scowl. “I don’t have hands! Or a mouth! And I can’t let you spike me! How am I supposed to keep you satisfied if I can’t spike you?”

“I tell you every time we’re together that I enjoy your company more than anything, Whirl.” Swerve said in a long suffering tone. 

“You say that now. But if I’m not picking up the slack-“ Whirl exclaimed. 

“I’m not gonna suddenly stop liking you. The fragging is great, it’s awesome, but it’s not the best part of this relationship.” Swerve interrupted. 

“Oh yeah? Then what is?” Whirl asked petulantly, claws planted on his skinny hips.

“You.” Swerve said in exasperation.

Whirl stared at him for a moment without moving, then he flicked his flight kibble and snorted very convincingly. 

“Maybe it’s not your valve that’s abraded. Maybe it’s your brain.” He chided before waving a claw. “Whatever, we’ll figure this out.”

“We’ve done well enough so far.” Swerve said as he watched Whirl go. He sighed heavily. 

It wasn’t easy, but it was going okay. Swerve knew Whirl well enough to figure he was feeling guilty about hurting him. Swerve wasn’t really _hurt,_ he was uncomfortable. Practice hadn’t made perfect, it had sort of made inconvenience. 

Whatever Whirl was trying to avoid discussing was being taken out on Swerve’s valve. Ratchet had been very clear… no interfacing for two weeks. Swerve was okay with that. Maybe it would force Whirl to finally get whatever was bothering him off his chest. 

Swerve had caught several more whispered conversations between Whirl and his avatar, and it was beginning to feel like they wanted him to barge in on them. No doubt so Whirl could be upset and yell and the avatar could blurt out whatever they were whispering about. 

They overestimated Swerve’s bravery. 

And now he had even more to unpack. Whirl sometimes said things in a way that suggested he found them inconsequential, and oh boy some of them sure felt like a can of worms. Whirl made casual offhand comments about Atomizer thinking the colour silver looked good on him, or about Lockdown supplying him with weapons when he had fallen on hard times and being appreciative of how ‘flexible’ Whirl was regarding payments. 

Maybe Swerve was reading too much into it, but Whirl’s unceremonious comment about being unable to let Swerve spike him seemed to have ominous connotations. 

He didn’t know how to pry. He didn’t want to upset Whirl, because it was _really_ easy to upset Whirl and Swerve felt worse every time he did. 

There was nothing to do about it now. Swerve was off work today, Bluestreak was picking up a shift at the bar, so that left plenty of time to ruminate. 

Rung warned that it was bad to do that. Swerve needed to be busy. He straightened up, let out a short sigh and fluffed his armour to shake off some of that dark energy. 

He didn’t bother pinging Tailgate before he left his room and headed over to see if his friend was home. By the time Swerve reached his fellow minibot’s hab and heard voices from within, he wished he had. 

Apparently he and Whirl had the same idea, because that was definitely Whirl’s voice he heard through the door. There was a heated discussion going on inside, and Swerve had definitely had his share of those today. He did an abrupt about face and began to walk away when he heard the door open behind him, Cyclonus and Whirl’s voices amplified. 

“-just ask him!” Cyclonus was snarling. “It is _not_ that difficult!” 

“I’m gonna go.” Tailgate informed his mate. 

“Oh yeah, says the guy who only took forever to actually get with the bot he was so obviously mad for! How long did it take you to actually listen to me about that, huh?!” Whirl shot back at Cyclonus. 

“You do not get to bring that up right now when you are being so stubborn!” Cyclonus shouted. 

“Please call me if you need anything.” Tailgate called in a harried tone, then the door closed and Swerve heard him mutter a long suffering prayer to Primus under his breath. “Oh, hey! Swerve!” 

“Hey!” Swerve said immediately as he spun on his heel again to face his friend. He plastered on a smile that he hoped wasn’t strained or weird. “Hey Tailgate! Just the mech I was hoping to talk to.” 

“Yeah, let’s do that. Just not here, please. Anywhere but here.” Tailgate said as he hurried to Swerve’s side and took him by the elbow firmly. “You and I are definitely due for a long conversation.” 

“Uh.” Swerve didn’t try to shrug off Tailgate’s grip, and his field wavered in anticipatory discomfort. 

They wound up ducking into a side corridor, and Swerve found himself being pressed up against the wall. He squeaked in alarm, his optics wide. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tailgate immediately hissed, and Swerve felt guilt immediately well up within him. 

“We decided we weren’t going to tell anyone until we were sure it was going to work out.” Swerve blurted without hesitation. 

“Why wouldn’t it work out?” Tailgate demanded. 

“Because… because it might not be working out already! I don’t even know right now. I don’t know where we stand with one another.” Swerve said with a hint of misery. “We had a fight.” 

“Was it a big one? Was there yelling? Did you call each other names? Did one of you declare it was over?” The barrage of questions made Swerve feel even more flustered. 

“There _was_ yelling, but no name calling. No one declared it was over, but Whirl was upset enough to storm off without saying goodbye.” Swerve explained, his faceplates burning. 

“Swerve.” Tailgate did that frustrated whining thing he did a lot with Cyclonus, and even stomped his foot. The disappointment in his field was making Swerve’s guilt deepen. 

“Look, I didn’t want to disappoint him. I really want to make it work! But trust me when I say, my very first instinct when I woke up and realized I hadn’t just dreamed it all up was to call you! I Really wanted to tell you, Tailgate.” Swerve insisted, hands waving and field rippling. 

“Uuuuugh!” Tailgate groaned dramatically, then sagged against Swerve and hit his helm against his shoulder. “This day is getting more frustrating with every passing second.” 

“Sorry.” Swerve wanted to ask Tailgate what Whirl and Cyclonus were talking about. Well, yelling about really. But he didn’t want to breach some unspoken rule or trust. Things were tenuous enough as it was. 

“Don’t apologize.” Tailgate said with a short sigh. He straightened up and stared Swerve in the optics. “Please tell me the truth. Tell me what is going on with you and Whirl.” 

“I will. Can we not do it here in the hallway though?” Swerve asked, face still burning. 

“Let’s go to your hab then.” Tailgate said as he finally released Swerve and stepped back. 

Making drinks or food for people was the best way Swerve had to deal with any anxiety that cropped up in his day, so as soon as he and Tailgate got to his hab, he busied himself making a couple energon shakes. 

Tailgate liked his sweet, like Whirl did, and thinking about that made Swerve’s throat feel a little tight. He reset his vocalizer as he turned to place one of the shakes in front of Tailgate, then made himself comfortable in the second chair at the table. 

Tailgate was looking around the room as if searching for something, and Swerve took advantage of the distraction by figuring out just what he was going to say. The cat was obviously already out of the bag, so that part was at least dealt with. It was just the details, and Swerve needed to make sure he wasn’t sharing too many of those. Whirl didn’t like dwelling on the little things, or so he said at least. 

“Where did you want me to start?” Swerve finally asked after a moment. 

“The beginning. I wanna know everything.” Tailgate said immediately in reply, his gaze turned back to Swerve. 

“Okay. It’s kind of an uh, I wanna say uncomfortable story?” Swerve winced and looked away, his fingers drumming on the glass he clutched like a lifeline. 

“I don’t care! I want to hear the whole thing! You should have told me-” Tailgate hadn’t touched his shake, he leaned across the table toward him. 

“I know, I know! I’m sorry, like I said, I didn’t want-” Swerve interrupted in a shrill voice.

“Is it serious?” Tailgate asked, and Swerve stammered into silence. 

After he caught his breath, Swerve nodded. “It’s serious.” He confirmed. 

“How serious?” Tailgate pressed. 

“Serious enough that he asked me out.” Swerve said, and it felt so good to finally put into words what he’d been holding back for weeks.

“Okay, so why the hesitation? Why the apprehension?” Tailgate sounded so exasperated. “It’s a good match, I think. Cyclonus does too.” 

“He does?” Swerve asked in a quiet voice. “You do?” 

“Yeah! You and Whirl, you… you feel really similar. I think you’ve got a lot in common. And I think this is good for you. For both of you. It’s a good match.” Tailgate sounded sure. 

“It’s been good so far.” Swerve assured. “A little awkward, but good.” He paused, then let out a soft laugh of embarrassment. “Okay, a _lot_ awkward if I’m being honest.” He muttered. 

“Relationships are awkward. And hard. And sometimes messy. But if it’s serious, and it’s good, then it’s worth all that.” Tailgate sighed shortly once more, his frustration seemed to deepen. “So what happened? Why is Whirl in my hab shouting at my Cyclonus about holomatter avatars?” 

“Uh.” That was weird. That was really weird. “I have no idea.” Swerve said, his field filled with confusion. 

“I guess we’re in the same boat there then.” Tailgate finally took hold of the shake Swerve had made him and guided the straw into his fuel intake. “He didn’t even knock. He just busted in and demanded Cyclonus give him advice.” 

“Uh huh.” Swerve nodded, and he hoped to Primus he didn’t sound too eager. “Advice on his avatar? What sort of advice?” 

“I don’t even know. I sort of tuned it out and left when the shouting got too loud. It didn’t feel like any of my business, besides you being involved. And I was honestly so upset you hadn’t told me that you and Whirl were even a thing that I didn’t really listen that closely!” Tailgate said in indignation. 

“I’m sorry Tailgate.” Swerve said with as much sincerity as he could muster. 

“I’m gonna need time before I accept that completely. Now, back to the beginning. How did this even start?” Tailgate said, elbow planted on the table and servo steadying his glass so he could enjoy the offered sustenance. 

Taking in a breath and letting it out slowly, Swerve sat up a little straighter. “It wasn’t supposed to be a relationship, I don’t think. It was just supposed to be fragging.” He said, and it didn’t sound that nice out loud. 

“Whose idea was that?” Tailgate asked. If he wasn’t Swerve’s closest friend, it would have been off putting how demanding he was when he wanted information. 

“Whirl’s. We were in the bar one night, he was drunk, he asked if I wanted to frag. I said no, but wound up walking him home because he was pretty drunk and I was worried he’d pick a fight with someone.” It was mostly the truth. Swerve bit his bottom lip and stared at his shake as he let Tailgate process what he’d said. 

“You guys didn’t-” Tailgate sounded appropriately scandalized. 

“No!” Swerve broke in hurriedly. “No no no, there was no advantage taken on either party’s end. Whirl was drunk enough that he passed out almost as soon as we got to his hab. And he passed out on top of me so I couldn’t leave. I wound up just sleeping there that night.”

“Okay.” Tailgate didn’t hesitate long before speaking, and his stare was only slightly scrutinizing. 

“We talked it over in the morning. Me, Whirl, and his avatar.” How did the avatar even factor into today and the argument they’d had? And why was Whirl over at Tailgate’s place shouting at Cyclonus about her? “And since then, we’ve been hanging out.” 

“Just hanging out.” Tailgate tilted his helm to the side. 

“Well… and fragging.” Swerve blushed a little. 

“You, Whirl and the avatar?” Tailgate asked. 

“No, just me and Whirl. The avatar usually gets sent off if we’re gonna frag, she just stays for the movie or show we’re watching.” Swerve reset his vocalizer again and stared into his cup. 

“The only reason I’m not banging my helm on the table right now is because this shake is really good and it would be rude to ruin it.” Tailgate said pointedly. “Do you and Whirl _ever_ talk about important things?” 

“Enough that we’re in a relationship.” Swerve said with a quick glance back at Tailgate. He was going to wither under that judgemental expression his fellow minibot wore. 

“So what did you fight about this morning? The avatar?” Tailgate asked. 

This time, Swerve turned his whole attention to his friend. This was where it was going to get embarrassing, or move into the territory of TMI. 

“No, the avatar had nothing to do with it.” Swerve had no idea how to word this. Painfully blunt seemed to be the best way to go. “Whirl and I need to take a break from fragging for a bit. Doctor’s orders. He didn’t take it well. He probably thought it was a rejection.” 

“That’s not what he was saying to Cyclonus.” Tailgate muttered before sticking his straw back in his intake. 

“And what exactly _was_ he saying to Cyclonus?” Swerve asked, even though he knew there was a slim chance of actually getting a straight answer. 

“Like I said. He was shouting about his holomatter avatar.” Tailgate shrugged. 

“I feel like… he’s been holding something back. The past couple weeks, it’s like he’s been winding himself up to ask me something, then he just clams up. Instead of talking to me, he just tries to frag me through the berth.” Swerve mumbled. 

“Weeks? Weeks?! Swerve!” Tailgate whined again, and Swerve cringed. “You’ve been dating Whirl for weeks and you never told me! I thought we were friends!” 

“I said I was sorry!” Swerve said in a desperate tone. 

Now he had more questions. He was relieved that he and Whirl seemed to be alright relationship-wise, but how in the world did the avatar factor into any of this? And how was he supposed to ask Whirl without scaring him off?

It was in the small hours of the morning when Swerve hadn’t heard from or seen Whirl that he started to worry in earnest. They hadn’t ever agreed to spending every night together, but usually they would message one another and make plans for later if they were busy. Swerve had sent Whirl a message or two, but they went unread and unanswered. 

The worry intensified when Swerve messaged Bluestreak to ask if Whirl had been in the bar that night, and Blue said he hadn’t seen him.

It felt weird to contact Rung so late, so Swerve skipped that step and messaged Cyclonus instead. There was no answer, which made sense considering the hour. Tailgate was also unavailable, and at this point there was no way Swerve was going to get any sleep, so he made the choice to wander out of his hab and down to Whirl’s. 

He let himself in. They were in a relationship, so he had the door code, and he didn’t really feel the need to knock before entering anymore, he spent so much time there. It was dark when Swerve entered, and there was no sign of Whirl. 

Worry turned to panic. There was no way to logic through it either. Whirl was gone. 

“Not gone. He can’t be _gone,_ Swerve, where would he go?” Swerve cursed to himself. “He’s on the ship somewhere, he’s just-”

Avoiding you. 

“He’s just indisposed. He wouldn’t just go, not without telling you.” Swerve said firmly. “He must be-”

Injured or dead. Drunk in a closet somewhere. In someone else’s berth or-

“Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic-” Swerve muttered as his panic only grew. He began to pace, wrung his servos nervously. 

“Swerve?” The voice calling his name made him nearly jump out of his armour, and Swerve couldn’t help the squawk that escaped him. 

When he turned, Swerve saw Whirl’s avatar standing just inside the door behind him. She was wearing a sad expression, but there was a light of what looked like hope in her eye. 

“Hey! Where have you been? You didn’t read any of my messages.” Swerve immediately blurted as he made his way to her and took her arms in his hands. “I was worried sick.” 

“Sorry. I would have come by but it’s hard to aim if I’m not looking right at a person.” Whirl’s avatar lowered her gaze. Her mouth turned down a little further and her sadness turned to frustration. “I’m in jail.” 

“Again?” Swerve asked, his grip tightening a little. “Why? What happened?” 

“I went to talk to Cyclonus. He made me really mad, so when I left his hab, I picked a fight with Ammo. Punched him right in his stupid face.” The avatar said bitterly. “Ultra Magnus must’ve been having a _day,_ cause he practically teleported there. I was behind bars before I could even give a statement! So… a real bad day for Magnus.” 

“Whirl.” Swerve said as gently as he could, and he felt her tense under his servos. “What’s going on?” 

She looked away for a long time. Swerve was afraid to break the silence, but he didn’t let go of her. He could feel her trembling, or maybe Whirl was having a hard time keeping her manifested this far from his frame. 

“I shouldn’t.” She finally said, so quietly that Swerve almost missed it. 

“You should. Because I’m worried about you. About us.” Swerve urged. “I don’t know what’s been bothering you lately, but I told you… I told you, no matter what, you can tell me if-”

“You haven’t done anything wrong.” Whirl’s avatar fixed him with a blazing look, mouth now set in determination. “It’s not _you,_ Swerve. You’ve done everything right.” She continued with a wry laugh. “It’s me.” 

“Whirl, you haven’t done anything wrong either. Everything’s been great, I told you that.” Swerve said with a hint of desperation. 

“No, not Whirl.” The avatar pushed him away and wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s not Whirl. It’s _me._ I’m the problem.” 

“What are you talking about?” Swerve asked after a brief pause. His spark hammered harder than before, and he honestly felt a little dizzy. “You are Whirl.” 

“But I’m not! Not really.” The avatar snapped. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Swerve shook his helm. “You’re as much a part of Whirl as his claws or his pedes or-” 

“It’s not enough!” She shouted over him, her arms dropped to her sides and fists clenched. “It’s never been enough! Not for any of the others! And Whirl is scared! He’s scared it won’t be enough for you either! That you’ll turn away, you’ll turn on him too!” 

And now she was crying. Swerve was so startled by that he was too distracted to think hard on the ‘any of the others’ comment. 

“I want to be with you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Whirl’s avatar said in anguish, once again folding her arms around herself as if for protection. “I want to be with you but I’m scared that this is too much. I want us to be okay. I want this to be okay…” 

Her voice broke and she ducked her head. Swerve took a hesitant step forward but didn’t try to touch her again. His field conveyed as much sympathy and comfort as he could muster. 

“We’re okay.” Swerve said, and his voice was a little choked too. “I promise, we’re okay Whirl. No matter what. No matter-” 

Before he could finish his sentence, the avatar looked up at him again. Then she was launching herself into his arms, and Swerve caught her easily. There was no time to speak, no time for thought, because her mouth was suddenly on his and his vision erupted into bursts of static. 

Swerve spluttered in surprise, his spark skipped hard enough to knock the air from his vents. His arms were around her, and she felt so warm, so small. So vulnerable. Her breath was too quick against his lips when she pulled just as suddenly away from the kiss. 

“Is this okay?” Whirl’s avatar asked tearfully. Desperately. 

“This is okay.” Swerve’s response was quick, but oh so sincere.

“Are you sure?” Whirl’s avatar tightened her arms around him and Swerve drew her a little closer in response. 

“I’m sure. This is okay.” Swerve reassured her. “This is more than okay.” 

“How much more?” Whirl’s avatar whimpered. 

There were no words to describe it, so Swerve decided just to kiss her instead. It was as good an answer as any, after all. It always worked in the movies. 

Another whimper escaping her, Whirl’s avatar clung to Swerve for dear life. The kiss was a little too hard, but that wasn’t unexpected since Swerve was pretty sure Whirl didn’t have that much practice kissing. Technically, neither did Swerve, but at least he had a mouth he used on a regular basis. They’d get through this together, like they had with everything else in this relationship. 

Swerve cupped her cheek and tilted his helm a little, and the kiss felt more natural after that. He rubbed her tears away gently with his thumb, felt her shudder in his arms, heard her gently sigh. Swerve let her break the kiss when she was ready, continued to hold her close. 

“Are you sure?” Whirl’s avatar asked again. 

“I’m sure.” Swerve breathlessly replied. “Is this… is this what you two were whispering about?” 

She nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder. “We didn’t want to rush it. He thought it was too soon, no matter how many times I reminded him that it wasn’t nearly as soon as all the other times.” She said. 

“All the other times?” Swerve could feel the nervous clench of his tanks even as the words left his mouth. 

“There were others in the past. Other people. Other bots. Ignorant ones. Stupid closed minded bastards.” Whirl’s avatar muttered. “I don’t even know what they were in it for, but it wasn’t for Whirl. If it had been for Whirl, they wouldn’t have left when I came around.” 

Swerve rubbed his chin against one of her pigtails, rubbed her back slowly with one servo. “Hey, not everyone can have terrible taste like me.” He said, and she let out a soft laugh in response before she punched him in the side. “Ouch, watch the cog.” 

“Jerk.” She was still laughing, and she was still crying when she lifted her head again to look at him. “I told him. I _told_ him. I said you were different. I told him it would be okay. He’s just been hurt so many times and things have been so good with you, he didn’t want to lose you.” 

“Can’t get rid of me. I’m like space barnacles.” Swerve said, and if his spark didn’t stop this flip flopping, he was going to have to go to the medical bay and face the wrath of a Ratchet woken far too early. 

“Just another desperate loser who’s scared to lose the best thing that ever happened to him, right?” Whirl’s avatar asked. 

“You should have just asked, Whirl.” Swerve murmured, hoping it wouldn’t cause her to punch him again. Even Whirl’s avatar hit hard. 

“I know. And you can tell him that when he gets out of jail next week.” She said in bitter amusement. “Guess that makes the whole break from fragging a bit easier, huh?” 

Swerve almost agreed, but then let out a soft, thoughtful hum. “It doesn’t have to be a break from fragging. Just a break from being spiked.” He said. 

She gave him a startled, wide eyed expression that made him immediately want to take those words back. Then she drew in a short breath and made a strange, strangled sound of agreement. 

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” She said in something akin to wonder. “How about that?” 

“How about it?” Swerve asked. 

“How about what?” She replied stubbornly. 

“We’ve made it this far.” Swerve said with a shrug, and hoped his field wasn’t registering the apprehension he felt in his spark. “What’s one more awkward encounter?” 

“What are you trying to say, Swerve?” Whirl’s avatar raised her brow at him and delivered another, far softer punch to his side. “Just spit it out already, I hate this talking in riddles slag.” 

Swerve laughed and blushed and looked away. Really, what _was_ one more awkward encounter in a string of already terribly awkward encounters? That was their lot in life, it seemed. But he’d never know unless he asked, so he went back to basics. 

“I guess I’m saying…” Swerve began while still looking anywhere but at the avatar still in his arms. “I guess I’m saying, wanna frag?”


	5. Catch of the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giving something a name makes it more real.

“Yes.” Whirl said immediately, and Swerve felt his spark give yet another lurch. “But we can’t.”

“Oh.” That didn’t feel great. “Can I ask why?” Swerve managed to keep his voice from conveying his disappointment. 

“If I overload this far from my body, it’ll hurt. A lot.” Whirl replied. “It’s hard enough on your spark maintaining an avatar, I don’t think I need to explain why overloading would be a bad idea while I’m in jail.” 

“You’ve done a lot of research on this.” Swerve observed. It was impressive, and he wished he’d thought of it. 

“Not as much as you might think.” Whirl shrugged and smirked at him. “Let’s just say, I got really drunk and took it literally when someone told me to go frag myself.”

“Wow.” Swerve couldn’t help letting out one of those embarrassed and nervous high pitched giggles. “Something tells me that went well.” 

“Oh yeah. Super well.” Whirl scoffed, rolling her eye. “Suffice it to say, I won’t be trying that again. Whirl and I are _not_ compatible.” 

“But you think you and I will be?” Swerve gazed at her hopefully. 

“Yes. Very much so. At least that’s the hope.” Whirl said with a reassuring smile. “We’ll need to wait to find out.” 

“Just until next week. Until then we could always practice the kissing thing.” Swerve suggested, his hands coming to rest on her hips. 

“That bad?” Whirl snorted, and her cheeks flushed as she looked away in embarrassment. 

“I never said that. I haven’t had much practice myself, my ‘facing partners don’t really kiss me.” Swerve said quickly. 

“Sometimes you say things that make me want to punch people.” Whirl murmured. 

“That’s strange.” Swerve said with a thoughtful hum. “Usually when I talk, it’s me people want to punch.” 

And true to life, Whirl did just that, jabbing him once more in the side. “Stop it.” She demanded. “Or I’ll make it count.”

“Okay, okay.” Swerve laughed softly. 

“I swear, no more pain Olympics.” Whirl said. 

“I can get behind that.” Swerve nodded and rubbed Whirl’s hips gently. “So, we’re good?” 

“We’re good.” Whirl nodded in return. “You wanna stay here for the night?” 

“Yeah. I think that would be better than me going home and staying at my place alone.” Swerve said with a smile. 

“Hey. Do you have a name?” Swerve asked out of the blue the next morning. He’d woken pleasantly, Whirl’s avatar curled in his arms, their legs tangled together. 

“Not yet.” Whirl murmured, eye still closed in feigned sleep. “I’ve been tossing a few around. I figured, if anyone ever really wound up being okay with this, they’d wanna call me something different than Whirl. Just so it didn’t get confusing.” 

“Okay, that makes sense. What are the ones you’ve been pondering?” Swerve asked as he rubbed her back very gently with one servo. 

Opening her eye, Whirl peered up at him, and her cheeks flushed. “Uh.” She said, then looked away in embarrassment.

“I promise you, I am not going to judge.” Swerve said and meant every word of it. 

“You might. It’s bad.” Whirl continued looking away, her face reddened like a very ripe tomato. 

“I have probably thought and said worse. I also love me a good pun or a bad joke, so lay it on me already.” Swerve nudged her gently and gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 

Taking in a slow breath, Whirl looked at him again. Her mouth turned down dramatically, and she rolled her optic toward the ceiling for even better effect. 

“Holly. Maddie. Ava. Tara.” She said in a firm, matter of fact tone. 

Swerve stared at her for a long moment in silence, during which she continued gazing at the ceiling as if hoping it would open up and suck her into space. As his mouth threatened to turn up in a smile, Swerve bit down on his bottom lip. 

“Mhm.” He murmured in a choked voice, unable to fully hide the fond amusement in his tone. “Those are good names.” 

“Told you it was bad.” Whirl turned her gaze back to him, eye now narrowed in a glare. “But I figured, human form, human name, and that-” 

“I love it.” Swerve blurted, and Whirl stammered into silence. “Seriously, it’s… it’s perfect. It’s so you.”

“Which one? Cause I’m not gonna use all of them, that’s just ridiculous.” Whirl recovered quickly, her glare now more pointed and almost threatening. “You trying to make me look like an idiot?” 

“Not at all. I agree, all of them are a bit too much, but we could just choose whichever one you like best.” Swerve suggested. 

“Yeah, okay.” Whirl relaxed a little, though her frown didn’t disappear altogether. After a moment of thought, she let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. You pick.” 

“You want me to name you?” Swerve asked with a blink. 

“You might as well be the one to pick. It’s what you’re gonna be screaming once I get out of jail, after all.” Whirl said with a shrug. 

It shouldn’t have made him squirm, but Swerve honestly couldn’t help it. He wasn’t even sure there was a word to describe the feelings Whirl inspired saying things like that. He certainly hoped that this extensive visitation meant Whirl was on his best behaviour in the brig and Ultra Magnus would let him out early. 

“Lemme think a moment…” Swerve mumbled. He needed that moment to diffuse himself, and to ponder the names presented. 

Holly had too many salty sitcom counterparts. Maddie was too young sounding. Tara almost felt too generic and overused. 

“I like Ava.” He mused aloud, and made sure he was making optic contact with Whirl when he did. 

“Yeah?” Whirl asked, her head tilted to the side. “It works for you?”

Swerve nodded with a smile of assurance, and Whirl quickly grinned in response. She threw her arms around him and nuzzled him firmly. 

“If it works for you, it works for me.” She chirped. “Ava it is.” 

“So how are you holding up?” Tailgate got straight to the point when he came by the bar that evening. 

“Just fine.” Swerve replied honestly. “Why do you ask?” 

“Well… Whirl’s in jail again. And the television isn’t on.” Tailgate pointed out.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t feel like watching anything tonight. Not here at least.” Swerve shrugged, his cheeks warming. “Whirl and I have been working our way through a few together so I’d rather save them.” 

“That makes sense. Do you want company tonight? Y’know, so you don’t have to spend the night alone?” Tailgate asked, and Swerve was touched by his concern. 

“I won’t be. I promise.” He said quickly in response. “You know that fight we had? Uh, we figured it out. Things are fine.” 

Tailgate stared at him with an expectant air but Swerve was once again gripped with the fear that he wasn’t supposed to be talking about this with anyone else, so he remained silent and returned the stare awkwardly.

Eventually, Tailgate slumped against the counter with a heavy sigh. He put his chin in his hand and his elbow on the counter with a soft, disgruntled sound. “You used to be so forthcoming.” He remarked. It was the nicest way Swerve had ever heard someone say he talked too much. 

“Sorry.” Swerve said with a grimace. 

“It’s alright. I get it.” Tailgate said, with a definite pout to his tone. 

“Maybe you could come over tonight? That way I can explain. Just… don’t want to do it here.” Swerve murmured. 

Straightening up, Tailgate nodded and let his field push against Swerve’s with a happy flick. “Okay. That would be a relief honestly.” He said. 

“You’re that worried about me?” Swerve asked with an incredulous laugh. 

“It’s not me, it’s Cyclonus. He saw the fight happen and tried to stop Ultra Magnus from arresting Whirl, but obviously it didn’t work.” Tailgate said with mild exasperation. “I’m shocked you haven’t noticed him staring in your direction all night.” 

At that, Swerve found himself scanning the bar quickly. Indeed, Cyclonus was sitting on the opposite side of his usual booth, where he had a direct line of sight to the counter. He was glowering for lack of a better word. It didn’t look much like concern, but it was hard to tell with Cyclonus. 

“I didn’t notice. Now I cannot help but do so.” Swerve looked quickly away, his protoflesh crawling. “Seriously, I’m gonna be fine. Whirl has promised to be on his best behaviour so he can get out of jail faster.” 

“I’m not sure that’s how Magnus works.” Tailgate said. 

“Yeah, but we can always hope, right?” Swerve shrugged again. “Feel free to hang out until I’m done here, we can head back to my place together.” 

“Okay. I’ll go let Cyclonus know.” Tailgate said cheerfully, then slid off the stool he was perched atop and trotted towards his still glaring partner.

Swerve waved in their direction, and after a few seconds Cyclonus nodded back. He turned his gaze to Tailgate, thus sparing Swerve his confusing ire. 

Having friends was strange, Swerve couldn’t help thinking. Or maybe it was just Cyclonus that was strange.

“This isn’t your hab suite.” Tailgate pointed out the obvious as the two minibots traversed the nearly empty hall. It was later than Swerve had intended, but the bar had been full of rowdies and cleanup had been a pain. 

“No, it’s not. I’ve been staying at Whirl’s.” Swerve said with what he hoped was an airy tone. 

“You two are moving pretty fast.” Tailgate said and prompted Swerve to give him a slightly nervous glance over his shoulder. 

“You think so?” Swerve asked. 

He didn’t actually want to know the answer. The thought had briefly crossed his mind in the earlier days of the relationship, but bringing it up felt like a hex. But Swerve liked and trusted Tailgate to be honest. 

“I mean, I’m not really one to talk.” Tailgate said with a soft laugh. “Cyclonus and I didn’t exactly take it slow. To be fair, we already lived with each other.”

“Yeah, that’s true. I’m not _living_ at Whirl’s, just staying over while he’s in jail.” Swerve explained. 

“How come? Wouldn’t it be more comfortable for you to just be in your own house?” Tailgate asked. 

“Maybe, but this is easier.” Swerve said enigmatically. He reached up to key the door open and gestured to Tailgate to enter. 

“Easier?” Tailgate queried as he stepped past Swerve. 

“Yeah.” Swerve ex-vented a little more of his nervousness before following Tailgate inside. Every part of him was praying this would be okay.

“Hey!” Ava’s voice chirped immediately. “Legs! How’s it going?!” 

“Oh, easier. I get it.” Tailgate said. “Hey Whirl! It’s going fine.” 

“I wasn’t expecting even more company. This makes the time pass way more pleasantly.” Ava said as she threw herself into one of the cushion filled chairs Whirl had in his suite. 

“I hope it’s okay I invited him over.” Swerve said as he moved in her direction. 

“Sure! Tailgate’s cool. We like him.” Ava replied before tugging Swerve down to kiss him on the cheek. 

Swerve blushed and glanced in Tailgate’s direction. The other minibot was standing where he’d stopped upon Ava’s greeting, his visor bright and EMF tucked close to his frame. It was almost possible to hear the gears in his head turning as he regarded them. 

“Uh.” Swerve said, his own field buzzing with awkward tension. “Tailgate? You okay?” 

Remaining silent for a long moment, Tailgate eventually raised a servo, then a single digit. He pointed at Ava and looked at Swerve inquisitively. 

“Is this what the fight was about?” He asked at last. 

“Yep.” Ava said with a grin. “Whirl’s a big dummy who was too scared to ask Swerve if it was alright to date his avatar.” 

“Is that a thing that happens now?” Tailgate asked after another pause, his visor brightening a little more. 

“In this hab, yes.” Swerve murmured. “Turns out, it is very alright with me.” 

“Well, yeah.” Tailgate said as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “If there was anyone aboard this ship that would be okay with that sort of thing, it’s you, Swerve. All you ever do is watch Earth shows and stuff, why would you ever turn down the chance to date a human?” 

“To be fair, Ava’s not really human.” Swerve said with a laugh.

“Who is Ava?” Tailgate asked, and he finally moved to settle on the second chair. 

“I’m Ava! Ava is me!” Ava said enthusiastically. “That’s my name! Swerve chose it. Isn’t it great?” 

“It’s a little confusing.” Tailgate squirmed to get comfortable amongst the pillows. “You’re Whirl.” 

“I am, yeah. But I’m not at the same time. And it would get sorta confusing if Whirl and I were in the same room at the same time so… Swerve gave me a name.” Ava explained. 

Tailgate hummed thoughtfully and regarded them. He soon shrugged, sighed and once again put his chin in his hand. “I couldn’t see this working with anyone else on this ship. But you two?” He said, then paused in silence. 

“Yeah?” Swerve asked after a few seconds. He hated the suspense. 

“You two are really cute.” Tailgate said, with another sigh that sounded far more wistful. “And it makes me really happy.” 

Ava looked up at Swerve with a beaming smile, once again causing his spark to stutter. She then punched him in the shoulder and let out a cackle. 

“See? I’m _always_ right!” She crowed. “The sooner you and Whirl figure that out, the better.” 

After a few rounds of racing games (where Swerve won every time except when he let Tailgate win so he wouldn’t get upset) Tailgate headed off seeming far more reassured that Swerve would be fine despite Whirl’s incarceration. 

Ava cuddled on the berth with Swerve in the quiet, comfortable darkness of the hab once Tailgate was gone. They didn’t talk, they didn’t really need to right now, and it was easy for Swerve to slip into light recharge. 

He was woken from shallow slumber by Ava shifting, and as he brought his optics online, he saw she had settled atop him and was staring down at him with an expression on her face he couldn’t quite decipher. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” She said, and he made a muffled, questioning sound in reply. “Do you mind if I try something?” 

“Probably not. But what did you have in mind?” Swerve asked, stifling a yawn behind one servo. 

“I wanna suck your spike.” It was so blunt and to the point and so very, very Whirl, but it still made Swerve splutter in surprise. “Would that be okay?” 

“It… yes. Of course. This is sudden.” Swerve said in shock. His frame got over it faster than his processor did, already beginning to grow pleasantly warm in anticipation. 

“It might feel like that for you, but like I said. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” Ava said, and now her smile was looking a lot more predatory. 

“Would that be safe?” Swerve asked. He shook himself fully awake, keen on not missing one bit of this moment.

“Hey, just because I can’t overload doesn’t mean you can’t.” Ava said with a little wiggle that made a bit more heat pool in Swerve’s frame. “Besides, I wanna see what I’m working with.” 

Oh Primus. A phrase like that was what performance anxiety was made of. Swerve made a sound of uncertainty and looked away, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. 

“Oh come on, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Whirl has thoroughly enjoyed all the parts of you he’s had so far. I get to enjoy the rest.” Ava insisted. 

“The rest doesn’t get enjoyed very often, that’s all.” Swerve murmured, his face warming as swiftly as his array was. 

“I can assure you, I am not going to be disappointed.” Ava slid off him as she spoke. She trailed her hand down his frame and cupped it over his heated panel firmly. “I want this. I want you.” 

Looking back at her, Swerve managed a smile that probably looked a lot like a grimace. “As long as you think it’s safe.” He mumbled. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ava asked with a brow raised. “Wait, are you one of those bots that gets off on sucking spike?” 

“I’m pretty sure that didn’t escape Whirl’s notice.” Swerve said, cheeks now blazing. “I happen to enjoy-”

“Having your mouth stuffed? Got a big ol’ oral fixation, huh?” Ava teased. Her hand rubbed against his panel and Swerve felt his vents hitch. 

“Maybe I do.” Swerve admitted, a touch breathless. 

“Well, I think we’ll be okay. If I promise to stop if it gets too heated, will that make you feel better?” Ava asked, head tilted to the side.

Swerve almost said yes, but stopped himself. “That would be unfortunate.” He said after a moment. 

Ava let out a laugh, and her fingers pressed into the seams of Swerve’s panels with eagerness. “Then let’s just do this. You and Whirl are really good at overthinking things. Embrace the spontaneity!” She said. 

She was right. And it wasn’t likely to be a part of this he was going to regret. Swerve gave in and let his panel slide back, the temptation to hide his face growing. Instead, he watched Ava’s expression as she curled her very soft hand around his steadily pressurising spike. 

Her eye widened and her lips parted in what looked like an expression of wonder. That wasn’t a reaction Swerve had been expecting, considering his spike was on the small side like the rest of him was. She explored his length and girth with her hand for a few seconds, her gaze fixed upon it. 

“Everything okay?” Swerve asked in a strained voice. If not for her touch, he probably would have deflated at this point. The awkward, tense anticipation wasn’t the greatest for encouraging him to stay at full mast. 

“It’s perfect.” Ava said, and the wonder had spread to her tone as well. “Swerve, you’re _perfect.”_

That was another first, this evening had been full of them. This was the first time in history Swerve had been called perfect, and the first time someone had admitted they’d spent all day thinking about sucking him off. 

“Thank you.” Swerve squeaked out, and he was certain it sounded a lot more like a question than a statement. 

“No, thank _you._ Seriously.” Ava breathed, then she scooted her way down his frame. As she drew her hand down his spike and gripped the base of it with strong fingers, she licked her way to the tip in one long stroke. 

Swerve’s biolights ignited and he gasped. His hips twitched upward off the berth, but he forced them back down again. 

“You’re pretty sensitive, huh?” Ava asked with amusement. 

“Mhm.” Swerve replied with a nod. He hadn’t been kidding about the fact that there were parts of him practically untouched. When he was interfacing with others, normally their spikes were the ones getting all the attention. 

“You won’t see me complaining about that.” Ava chirped, then she engulfed his spike in her mouth unceremoniously and sucked hard. 

Swerve was aware of the shout that escaped him, but he didn’t know if it was words or just noise. His hips bucked again and his spike twitched in Ava’s mouth. 

She let it rest at the back of her throat for a few seconds before drawing slowly off of it, sucking gently the entire way. Swerve whined and forced himself into a sitting position so he wouldn’t be so tempted to just thrust into her mouth frantically like his frame was telling him to do. 

There was no possible way this was the first time she’d done this. This was technique, this was practiced. 

“H-how?” Swerve groaned, his optics rolled back behind his visor as she bobbed her head and applied relentless suction that made charge crawl along his thighs and crackle in his seams. 

Thankfully, mercifully, Ava didn’t stop to answer his question. She paused long enough to look up at Swerve and offer what might have been a wink (hard to tell with the eyepatch) and what was definitely a smug grin before resuming the rhythm she’d established. 

“Oh frag, Ava!” Swerve moaned, his spike positively throbbing and the coil of pressure at the base of his spinal strut becoming almost too much to bear. 

He looked down at her and felt his spike jerk once again. The image of her very human features, eye closed in pleasure and lips closed over the head of his spike while her tongue lashed at the tip, it was something Swerve was aware of dreaming about and subconsciously fantasizing about. He couldn’t help feeling like, in this moment, he was the luckiest fragging mech alive. 

Swerve’s servo twitched towards her head as he felt overload building to heights he couldn’t contain. Ava seized it in her free hand and guided it to her hair, and Swerve let himself give in. He tangled one pigtail in his servo and pulled Ava’s head down until her nose was pressed against his array, then overloaded with a sharp cry. 

She didn’t fight, she simply let out a growl of appreciation, sucked hard once more and swallowed as much as she was capable of. 

Vision whiting out and audials filling with static, Swerve felt his hips jerking in time with the pulsing of his spike. He panted hoarsely, fluid streamed from his optics. He forced himself to let go of Ava’s hair, not wanting to hurt her, but she didn’t move until she was pretty sure he was finished shooting transfluid down her throat. 

Slowly drawing off his spike, Ava gave his head another wet lick and sighed in satisfaction. 

“Perfect.” She purred again. 

“Gah.” Swerve replied eloquently. 

“Damn Swerve.” Ava sat up and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. Her eye was gleaming and she was grinning madly. “You overload like that inside of me and you’re gonna blast me back to Cybertron.” 

“If your valve is as hungry as your mouth, you bet I will.” Swerve’s words were slurring and his face had never felt hotter. 

Ava let out another laugh before throwing her arms around him. Swerve wrapped her up in a hug and let himself flop back down against the berth with an exhausted huff. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” He murmured sleepily. “That was amazing.” 

“Glad to be of service.” Ava murmured near his audial as she nuzzled him affectionately. 

“You are really good at that.” Swerve said, his plates shifting to let heated air escape from beneath them. 

“Whirl’s too big for me to frag, but he and I still fool around. We figured it would be a good idea to practice in case there ever came a day a mech didn’t run out the door when faced with me.” Ava explained. She propped herself up so she could look down at him, her head tilted once more. “Is that okay?” She asked hesitantly. 

“It is so much more than okay.” Swerve was a little upset he hadn’t thought of doing that. To him, hanging around his avatar had seemed desperate and lonely, and that’s why he’d stopped doing it. 

Ava was so casual about it, even matter of fact. She and Whirl didn’t seem ashamed at all of keeping themselves company. 

“This relationship is going to be so much better for me than therapy.” Swerve mumbled, then stifled a yawn behind his hand. 

“Hah! I’m gonna tell Eyebrows that next time I see him.” Ava snickered. “He’ll get a kick out of it.” 

“Oh no.” Swerve let out a weak laugh but didn’t protest further. He was too tired for that. 

“I’ll let you sleep now. I ought to take a break, honestly. Dunno if being out this long is gonna hurt Whirl.” Ava murmured, though her grip on him tightened. 

“Stay until I’m out at least? I can’t miss you when I’m unconscious.” Swerve asked, and for once it didn’t sound pathetic to him. 

“Absolutely. And tomorrow, maybe Whirl will apologize really nicely to Mags so he can come home.” Ava nuzzled him again before she settled comfortably against his frame. 

“That would be nice.” Swerve said, then his systems powered down and recharge wrapped him up in comfortable darkness.


End file.
